Caballos
by Aelia Douglass
Summary: Post New Vegas: Raul and the Courier have moved on, to the New Mexico desert where they find something they never expected; horses.
1. Chapter 1

I've never written Raul before, so bear with me. This is for the FalloutKinkMeme in response to the following:

_The Courier leaves Vegas to Yes Man for a bit and started traveling to see the world outside the Mojave. Raul tags along for old time's sake (secretly to watch out for his best friend/maybe more) and they come across a herd of mutated mustangs. Turns out Raul still remembers how to ride, even after all this time. As someone who grew up on a ranch, it never leaves you. Courier watches in awe as the old ghoul comes alive again._

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><p>The sign had promised that it was the "New Mexico: Land of Enchantment," and some of the slaves they'd liberated had sworn it belonged to Caesar, but all Raul and Emma had found was dust. Dust and decay, more of the same thing they'd found in the Mojave. Sure, the scenery had changed a bit, but it was more of the same. Old world civilization gone to ruin, industrious scavengers salvaging what they could to try to rebuild something.<p>

They had seen people in the distance from time to time, but neither of them was eager to venture into society, so they had kept walking. Kept to the wilds. To the wastes. It suited them better that way. There were fewer questions, fewer guns pointed in their faces if they kept away. They could relax in the wilderness in a way that just wasn't possible around others.

Emma still didn't remember much, so she made up stories about her past. Raul remembered everything, but sometimes he made up stories, too. Or he didn't. She never quite knew.

Sometimes, they even talked about the future, or tried to. She'd made the mistake of trying to get Raul to talk about his future, but he'd shrugged her off and told her that what mattered most was now.

Together, they would walk the world, she declared. He had just shrugged and told her he would follow. He would always follow. He would be with her until her time was up, and then he would find something else to do with himself. The thought was simultaneously morbid and comforting. To know that even when she was gone, when all traces of her contributions to the world had been forgotten, Raul would still be there.

They had walked several miles that day, and Emma was just starting to get tired when Raul had called for a stop. He stared at the earth below them. She had thought it was just another mark in the dirt, but Raul had frozen. He had stooped and stared at it. He had frowned at the dust, squatted and moved around it, examining it from multiple angles.

When he had looked up at her, there had been a light in that worn face that she had never seen before. His lips had cracked into a genuine smile.

"Horses."

She had smiled in response, but it hadn't meant much to her. Perhaps she had known more, once, but right then, she had no idea what a 'horse' was. Still, Raul looked so happy there, crouched in the dirt and pointing at a vague shape that she smiled for him. For his happiness.

He caught her hand, pulled her down to crouch beside him. She tried to see what he was seeing. She squinted and stared and frowned. But Raul was patient, and when it became clear she could not see it on her own, he pointed it out to her.

"There." He outlined it with a finger, and she followed the curve of the shape he drew. "And there, there, and there." With each 'there,' he pointed to another shape in the dust. She tracked where his finger pointed, but couldn't make out much.

"I know, boss." He smiled again, but this time it was sad. "You think this old ghoul is teasing you. But there are horses here, somewhere."

Emma hadn't known what to say, so she hadn't said a word. He'd just smiled that sad smile again, and followed her without a backward glance when they moved on.


	2. Chapter 2

They had been making camp at the base of a cliff a few days later when Raul had frozen once more, that wistful look on his face. They hadn't spoken of his past, or of the 'horses' since that first day. Neither of them quite knew how to bring it up without risking further awkwardness.

"There," his voice was a reverent whisper. Emma had followed the line of his arm to a nearby hill where a large shape moved. It was strange, and unfamiliar. The form was silhouetted against the setting sun, and though she didn't quite know what she was seeing, it took her breath away.

"What is that?"

"A horse."

She'd stared in awe. Raul had slanted a glance her way, smiled his little smile, and begun creeping toward the strange form. He stooped at his pack, rummaged quickly, and come up with a long coil of rope. He held it between his hands like an old friend as he turned back to look at her once more.

"Stay down, boss. Stay low and quiet and watch this old _vaquero_do his thing."

She'd done as he asked. It had been magnificent.

Raul had spun twirled the rope in a lazy circle above his head, his movements so smooth and effortless that she knew he must have had years of practice. With a gentle motion, he'd sent the rope flying toward the horse. It had flown straight and true, and caught the beast around the neck. It was so graceful that it had seemed as though the rope were floating.

It had leapt in terror, its front feet leaving the ground as it flung its head. Raul had stood firm, reeling in the length of rope and drawing the horse closer, stepping forward carefully. Soon, he stood face-to-face with the creature. He touched it, stroked it lazily. He crooned gentle words in Spanish. The animal snuffled at him, made small sounds of distress, but it quieted slowly.

She didn't know horses, but she could recognize the body language, and she saw the moment it relaxed. As the tension went out of its body, Raul's smile grew.

"Boss," he glanced her way, his hand still stroking the horse with a tenderness she'd never seen before. "I believe we just found someone who can help spare my knees."

She couldn't stop the smile that curved her lips in response.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning he worked with the horse once more. He'd asked Emma if she minded camping here for a day or two while he trained the horse. She'd agreed, because it was so fascinating, seeing this side of Raul. It was like he was a whole different person.

He used his rope to run the horse in circles, moving them in and out, bigger and smaller until the horse's breathing was heavy. Then, he approached it carefully, moving slowly. He was whispering that gentle Spanish again. Emma wished she could understand what he was saying.

When he put his hands on the horse's back, she held her breath. He slowly leaned on the horse, adding more weight carefully, but it didn't panic. It just stood there, flicking its ears back and forth, wondering what he was up to. He smiled again, the joy suffusing his face made Emma smile in response. Soon, he was sitting on its back, and it was tolerating him.

He spent the rest of the day working with the horse. Emma took the opportunity to repair some of her weapons and armor. When he stopped for lunch, he explained a bit of what he was doing, but for some things, he just didn't have the words. He had never needed their English equivalent, so he'd never learned it.

But he got his point across, and by late evening, when their molerat meat was stewing in the fire, he brought her to the horse.

"Speak to her softly. She needs to trust you first." He cupped Emma's hand in his own and held it out for the horse to sniff. Emma trembled. It was one thing to see a horse from a distance, another thing entirely to stand this close to the huge creature. The horse snuffled at her hand, then drew its head back slowly and fixed her with one dark eye.

Still holding her hand in his own, Raul brought Emma's hand up to stroke the horse's neck. "Tell her she's a good girl," he whispered, his voice close to her ear. "She'll never like you if you're not kind to her."

"G-" Emma swallowed hard, wondered if there was another meaning behind Raul's words. "Good girl."

The horse snorted, but didn't move away. "Keep stroking her. She's not sure what to think yet. She needs to know you won't hurt her."

She wanted to meet the horse properly, wanted to get to know this giant, furry creature, but she was distracted by the man behind her. He was so close, she could feel his chest against her back, his breath on her cheek. One hand rested casually on her hip, the other cupped her hand. The words he was speaking were double-edged, and she couldn't be sure that he was just talking about the horse.

"Emma?" Raul's whisper was gentle as he moved her hand along the horse. She felt warm flesh beneath the soft hair on its neck. "Are you paying attention?"

"Yes." She wasn't exactly lying. She was _trying _to focus on the horse in front of her, but found herself distracted by the warmth of the man, the roughness of his flesh against hers. She could perhaps have dealt with one sensation, or the other, but together it was overwhelming.

It was an entirely new experience in more ways than one.


	4. Chapter 4

_I feel like I've been saying this a lot, but I dropped off the radar due to some major personal issues. Things seem to have gotten better, and I'm trying to pick up where I left off. If you're still around and reading, thanks._

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><p>That afternoon, Raul loaded the horse up with their bags, and they'd travelled. Not more than a mile or two, but they had moved at the horse's pace, and Emma had scouted ahead, trying to ensure that they didn't spook the horse with a fight. Aside from an encounter with a pair of molerats—more of an inconvenience than any real danger—the trip had been quiet.<p>

They had been fortunate enough to find a fairly well-situated cave that evening. It was a good-sized hole in the rock, and there were boulders around the entrance which blocked it from view. The horse lipped at greenery while Raul and Emma set up a small camp; a fire banked so the light didn't spread too far, and a few threadbare blankets. Their packs served as pillows.

Not the most comfortable place they'd slept, but they had done worse.

"I'll take first, boss." Raul had said. Emma didn't argue, she was too tired. She stripped off her outer armor, and lay down, asleep before her head hit her pack.

In her dreams, Raul was as fascinated by her as he had been by the horse. His rough hands stroked her skin, and he whispered endearments to her in Spanish. She dreamed of their bodies touching, of friction building between them. Of kisses and caresses and stolen moments in each other's arms. Of undressing him slowly and tracing the patchwork of skin and scars, of his dark flesh upon her fair.

She woke with a jerk, her cheeks flushed and her breathing heavy. Raul sat nearby, his dark gaze on her, not the environment. Emma hoped she hadn't said anything in her sleep, though it likely she had given her dreams away in other ways. His eyes were too knowing.

"Rough dreams?"

He had to know what she'd been dreaming about. She wished she was the sort of woman who could use this to her advantage, who could seduce an experienced ghoul who'd seen it all. But she wasn't. She was just Emma, the Courier with no past, and who might not have a future.

"Yeah, you could say that."


	5. Chapter 5

Raul had explained long ago that a ghoul his age didn't need as much sleep as a human. An hour or two here or there often kept him going for days. Weeks, if needed. She'd always appreciated that in the past; it meant that sometimes instead of getting woken for a turn at the watch, she'd gotten to sleep the night through.

Tonight, as grateful as Emma was for the company, she wished he needed sleep so she could be alone with her thoughts. Perhaps the answer was a walk. She stood, wrapping herself tighter in the oversized coat they'd found a few weeks back. The desert was bitterly cold at night, and she was not a fan of cold.

"Be careful, _mija_." Raul's voice reached her from the darkness on the far side of the fire.

She managed a tentative smile, hoping it did not look as strained as it felt. "I'm not going far."

The horse made a noise, and shifted its weight as she passed. She resisted the irrational urge to run her fingers down one warm, furry side, and continued walking.

Soon she was outside their small encampment,beyond the reach of the firelight. Alone. With her thoughts. She tilted her head back, and stared at the expanse of stars above her. They were beautiful, cold, and distant. A fragment of memory teased her, telling her that she had once read a book about the stars. That she had known their names, and their mythology. That once, before the war, in dark places like this, she would have been able to see many more.

She sighed, and she saw the vapors from her breath drift away. Wondered how she knew they were vapors. It was frustrating, how sometimes she could remember things, and other times all she could recall was emptiness.

She sat down, her head still tilted back to gaze at the stars, as if the answers would come to her from above. But all she got was the niggling sense that she had once known so much more about them and she had forgotten.

Maybe she could ask Raul. But he was the reason she was out here, and she might not remember to ask later.

She had never dreamed about him before. It wasn't that she had found him unattractive, precisely. Raul had just never been as _alive_ as he had been in the last day or so. It had almost seemed as though he was just waiting to die, tagging along and keeping her alive because it would fill the time.

But tonight's dreams had been about far more than just Raul. Vague memories teased her, and had her flushing once more. Everything she knew came from holodisks she'd found in the ruins, and a few girlie magazines. She might have known more once, but it had been lost to the emptiness where her memories had once been. She didn't even know if she was a virgin.

She sighed again, and watched the cloud dissipate. There were no answers here. None in the skies above, or in her distressingly empty head.

The cold was seeping through the jacket, chilling her enough that she knew it was time to head back to the fire.

Back to Raul.


	6. Chapter 6

He sat by the fire still, his hands busy with something small and metal. She wasn't sure, but she thought it might have been one of the pistols she'd asked him to take a look at. His dark eyes followed her as she came closer, his gaze concerned. Emma sat down heavily near the fire. Raul's hands stilled, his attention no longer even slightly on his project. When he saw her face he went to work, stirring up the fire and putting a pot of clean water on to heat.

He didn't ask if she wanted to talk.

Part of her wished he would, wished he would poke and prod and demand that she explain herself as others might have. But other parts appreciated that he recognized her need for quiet. When she caught his eyes, his lips twitched up into a small smile, and then he went back to his fussing.

It was only when she had a cup of what Raul had called "_café_" in her hands, and he had settled on the ground nearby that he spoke.

"Sometimes it helps to talk about it." Raul shrugged, his shoulders rolling casually, as if it wasn't important, but the way he watched her betrayed his concern.

Emma stared silently at the fire for a time, thinking and trying to decide if speaking to Raul was the answer, or if it would just make things worse. He didn't press the matter, just settled in with his own steaming mug and let her process at her own speed.

She wondered if he'd always been this patient, or if it had come with age, and the knowledge that he would have several more lifespans than the humans he routinely interacted with.

"I-" Emma tried to start, but her voice caught in her throat and she couldn't continue. She coughed, took a sip of coffee, and hesitated before beginning again. He was right there. She could _show_him what she had dreamed about. Could demonstrate what was bothering her instead of trying to explain it.

But if he wasn't interested in her, if he thought of her as a little girl, as the youngster she was relative to his age. She wasn't sure how old she was. That information was missing. The Doc's best guess had been somewhere around twenty, maybe twenty-one when she'd been shot.

That was nearly three years ago, according to the date on her PipBoy.

She'd found Raul not long after that, locked up in a storage room surrounded by crazed nightkin.

Emma remembered that well. Bursting through the door battered and bloody and surprising the ghoul at his workbench. He'd nearly taken her head off with a wrench before he figured out what was going on.

Now, she couldn't imagine life without him.

Perhaps that was why her thoughts were so disconcerting. She _wanted_ Raul in a way that she couldn't explain. Wanted him as a friend—and if she were honest, she might admit that he was perhaps her _best_friend—and even more. But she wasn't sure she was willing to risk her friendship by even broaching the subject of her dreams.

"It's alright if you don't want to talk," Raul said, not quite looking at her.

She remembered earlier, at least, even if she couldn't remember her past. She remembered his words, the gentle way he'd stroked the horse, the feel of his warm hands on her.

Emma chewed her lower lip, a habit she was only barely aware of. She frowned, and took another swallow of coffee before deciding that Raul would rebuff her gently and it would be good to... the phrase "clear the air" came to mind, though she wasn't sure it was what she was looking for.

"Raul," she began again, clinging to the mug of coffee with shaky hands. "I want you to know-" his attention was suddenly _very_on her. She swallowed more coffee to moisten her now dry throat. "I think you are-"

Raul's eyes sparkled in the fire, he leaned toward her slightly, intent on her.

"I think I-" Emma stumbled again. _Why_ was this so difficult? It wasn't her brain, but it was. It was something in her belly, something related to the fluttering and nausea that distracted her. _Nervousness_. She was _nervous_.

"_Mija,_" Raul began, moving toward her slowly, as careful in his motions with her now as he had been with the horse earlier. "What do you want to say?"

"I don't know how to say it," Emma gestured with one hand, waving it frustratedly. Raul was suddenly very close. He was _right there_and she knew that there wasn't a word to be said.

So in a moment of impulsiveness, Emma closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his.

Raul froze, and for a heartbeat Emma was sure he would push her away. And then he softened against her, and he was kissing her back. She leaned into him, her free hand upon his shoulder, helping her to balance.

When he pulled away, he was smiling.

Emma stared at him, feeling her cheeks flush and her breath come fast just from a kiss. She smiled a little, and made a point of setting down her coffee carefully, out of reach, away from where it could get spilled. Coffee was rare out here, and precious, and she wouldn't waste it for anything.

But it could wait.

Raul was smiling at her still, and now that she had started this, she had every intention of seeing it through before either of them came to their senses. Who was she kidding? She was worried he might consider how young and foolish she was. How much of a headache she caused him, and how much simpler his life would be if he left her behind.

And she couldn't bear that. Not after that kiss. Not without seeing how far it could take them.

Emma moved deliberately, her hand careful as she caressed his rough cheek. His eyes were on her lips.

"Emma," he said, though it was barely more than a sigh. "I am not a strong enough man to resist you." He leaned into her caress. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes," she breathed, before claiming his lips once more. She slid her hands up his shoulders, until her arms were wrapped around him. His hands settled on her waist, holding her steady, or maybe holding himself steady. She didn't know.

She just knew that she was _really_ enjoying this.


	7. Chapter 7

Emma spent some time just kissing Raul, getting used to the feeling of her lips on his, of his hands on her waist. She recognized that he was allowing her to set the pace, and she appreciated it more than she could express. It wasn't long before she grew braver, and leaned in, pressing their bodies together.

Emma broke the kiss, and pulled back a little. She met Raul's cloudy eyes and smiled nervously.

"I don't…" Emma hesitated. "I don't know what I'm doing. Can you show me?"

He smiled.

"_Si, Querida_." His hand cupped her cheek briefly, stroking the skin carefully. She leaned into it, and turned her face a bit to place a kiss upon his palm. "If you want to stop, just tell me."

He undressed her tenderly, kissing each portion of skin as he exposed it to the firelight. And when she was bare before him, he smiled at her tenderly.

"_Eres hermosa._" He whispered. "You're so beautiful."

She flushed.

He was gentle with her. So tender and careful that she felt treasured. He whispered to her in Spanish. Endearments she didn't understand, though she could tell what they were by the air of reverence with which he spoke.

He lavished kisses upon her body, stroking and touching her and making her body burn with desire. And when she could bear no more, she cried out his name and climaxed.

But it wasn't enough for her. Raul was still clothed, and though she appreciated the attention, she felt that it was unfair to let him show her such pleasure without returning the favor.

Carefully she let her hands roam his body, and she slowly undressed him in turn. She gave him the same treatment, kissing his rough skin as she exposed it, appreciating every part of him. He was better than she had imagined. His body was fit with years of hard work, and though his flesh was ragged from the ghoulification, it was still beautiful to her. She touched him with reverence, and his breathing quickened.

Later, after they had exhausted themselves with each other, Raul pulled Emma close. She appreciated the warmth that radiated off his body, and the feel of him against her. It was the safest and most comfortable she could ever remember being, and it was because of Raul.

In the morning when Emma woke, she was alone. She vaguely remembered him leaving, but she wasn't sure how long it had been. It was almost disappointing. Almost. But then she smelled breakfast. She ate the food that Raul had left for her, and went to find her ghoul.

He was, predictably, outside with the horse. He sat upon its back with confidence, running it through its paces. She found a convenient perch and watched him. The pair moved as one. It was inspiring.

It wasn't long before he rode up to her.

"Come here, _querida,_" he said, extending his hand to her. She took it, and he pulled her up onto the horse, settling her before him. His arms wrapped around her and held onto straps of rope. He'd fashioned some headgear for the horse, and he seemed to be using it to steer.

He guided the horse into a walk, and then handed her the ropes.

"Gently pull it in the direction you want the horse to walk," He said. So she had pulled carefully on one then the other as Raul guided her through the nearby scrub.

They were only at it for an hour or so, but when she finally got off the horse her legs felt like rubber.  
>She valiantly pretended they did not, and went about her business as though it did not matter. Raul had teased her, and she had flushed nearly crimson. That night, he had made it up to her by massaging the tender muscles. She had melted into his arms and they had made love by the fire.<p>

It quickly became their routine. Each day as they traveled the New Mexico desert, Raul worked with her on her horse-back riding. She spent nights in his arms.

It was bliss.


	8. Chapter 8

Some weeks later, she discovered that Raul could sing.

He found a _guitarra_ in the ruins of a small town. He spent some time hunting around the house until he came up with a package of wires. She wasn't entirely sure what he was up to, but he was intent on finding them. When he did, he'd shouted triumphantly and stuffed them into a pocket.

Emma had been confused, and had waited impatiently for him to explain it. But he hadn't. He'd just taken the _guitarra_ and disappeared for a few hours.

She had taken care of the horse's needs, and then her own, and settled in to wait and see what her _vaquero_ was up to.

It had been the music she heard first, just a few notes in the distance. And then she'd heard his voice, rich and strong, and singing to her in Spanish. She hadn't known the words, it wasn't a tune that she'd heard before. But it was beautiful, and he put so much emotion into it that it had brought tears to her eyes. He was serenading her.

She'd hung on every note, and let herself get absorbed in the music. And when he had finally finished, and the final notes had faded, she'd flung herself into his arms and covered him with kisses. He'd laughed and kissed her back and the happiness became something more passionate.

He taught her to play the guitar when she asked. She was not good at moving her fingers quickly, and sometimes the position they had to be in hurt, but it was worth it. He taught her the words to go along with the songs, and as the weeks went on, she gained a proficiency she had never expected.

Between the horse-riding and the guitar-playing, she was feeling pretty accomplished.

Then they found the herd.

There were only five or so horses, but they were still majestic. They thundered through a valley that seemed untouched by the war. At the center stood a small ranch. It was long since abandoned. The owners had either died in the war or not long after judging by the state of decay they found. But it was still standing, and in only a few short days they'd whipped it into shape.

"Raul, do you want to stay here?" Emma had been nervous. It was as perfect a place for her _vaquero_ as she would probably ever find. There was a respectable house, and what he'd explained were a stable and pens, and there was a herd of horses just _waiting _for someone like Raul to round them up and train them.

He had gone quiet. He'd looked out over the valley, and then he'd turned back to her.

"Not without you."

The words had touched her in a way she could never have imagined. She'd felt the tears building in her eyes as happiness overwhelmed her, and she had thrown herself into his arms and planted kiss after kiss upon his startled face.

"Let's stay here. We can build a life for ourselves here. We can raise your horses and you can teach me how."

Raul had nodded and held her close.

"I love you." She'd whispered.

"_Te amo._" He'd replied.

Together, they built a home. A place for two sad wanderers who'd seen too much pain and suffering to find happiness.

Years later, people would talk of them; the courier and her _vaquero_.


End file.
